Enough
by VisionGirl
Summary: When things start to go wrong in Angel's life, he turns to Buffy for comfort. (Kind of C/A and B/A... but NOT a happy, fluffy B/A fic! Youve been warned!)
1. Enough

Title: Enough

Author: Visiongirl

Pairings: B/A and C/A

Rating: R

Summary: A fic with some major angst: Angel is having a hard time with his life, and turns to the only person he can; Buffy. BUT THIS IS NOT A HAPPY, FLUFFY B/A FIC! Just consider yourself warned!

A/N: First, this story doesn't really have a set time. Second, I know I should be working on Once and Again (formerly Never Too Far Away) but this idea won't go away! 

Buffy's POV

It was long past midnight when my doorbell rang. Everyone was asleep. The SITS safe in bed, and the rest of the Scoobies had passed out hours ago. I couldn't sleep though. I was awake. Worrying? Waiting? I don't know. Spike had disappeared the moment the sun had hidden behind the horizon. It's been like that between us lately. He calls it quiet. I call it tense. 

The bell rang again, and I make my way to the front door. I'm almost afraid to open it, what with the First playing his mind games. I can never be too careful. I don't know what to expect. 

I can tell you now, I didn't expect this.

Angel stood on my front porch, looking a little more broody than I remember.

"Hi." I say softly, at a loss for words.

"Hi." He replies, then glances around, almost nervously. "Can I come in?"

I move aside and beckon him in. There's no need to say he's invited--he's had a standing invitation for years. "Business or social?" I ask as I shut the front door.

"A little of both." he replies--I can see he doubts whether or not he should explain. "I need to escape business for a while. Escape L.A."

I bite back the '_I told you so'_ that is threatening to leave my mouth. Instead, I answer with a simple, "Oh?" I sit on the couch, and he follows suit. "Rough client?"

He shakes his head 'no' and relaxes against the back of the couch. He sighs--I wonder when he started to do that? "Just... a little of everything, you know?" He places his hand on my knee, and I place mine on his hand. Huh. They're softer than I remember. 

"I'm glad you came. I really am. But, why aren't you in L.A.? Don't you have people up there to talk to?"  
  
Angel frowns--or is that a scowl?--and continues. "No. Not about this. There's just so much. And Cordelia..." He stops himself. It may have been a while since I've seen him, but I can tell that her name brings anything but happy memories. 

"So three years with Queen C has gotten to you?"   
  
He shakes his head again. "No. I didn't mean it like that. She's fine. She's changed. A lot. It's just... there are things now. A lot of... I don't know. It's hard to explain."  
  
I don't bother to ask. The look on his face is enough for me to know to change the subject. "Well," I say, "You're welcome to stay as long as you want. 

He smiles at me. I can tell it's a little forced, but... well, I'm just glad I have the chance to see it. He sighs again, and then looks as if he's ready to just sink into the couch. He physically looks as if his body is suddenly 100 times heavier. I cock my head to the side and look at him questioningly. "Angel?" I say, hesitantly. "Are you ok?"   
  
He nods, then leans towards me, and before I realize what's going on, his lips are on mine, and I remember what I've been missing. It's sweet and gentle, yet hard and needy at the same time. I have no time to think before we are both lying on the couch, and I can feel my shirt being pulled off of me.   
  
And suddenly, I forget everything. All of the pain and worries I've had lately are gone, and I don't even need to think about the First, or the SITs or Spike. 

No, I'm happy again. And all I needed was this. I feel him enter me and I let out a moan. I briefly worry about the curse, but pleasure takes over the worry, and I push it to the back of my mind. He growls softly into my neck, and I dig my nails into his back and whisper his name, and he moves quicker and harder and it takes everything I have to not scream in complete and utter pleasure. I wrap my legs tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper into me and I feel tears slide down my cheeks. I arch my back slightly under him, and whisper a single word, "Angel," before I pull him as deep into my as I can. I let my head fall back as I let out another loud moan, not caring about the people sleeping upstairs. I move my hips in time to his, and can feel my body draining of energy. 

I let out another moan, and my body shudders underneath him. He holds me tighter to him, and I can't hold back the tears of happiness that flow over my eyelids. I shudder again, and let out a soft moan with every thrust of his. Finally, he comes, and I hear him growl possessively into my neck. He doesn't move, and I'm glad. I don't want to give up this closeness. Not yet. 

He hugs me tighter yet, and I gently stroke his hair. "I'm so glad you came back." I whisper. "Tomorrow morning, we can work everything out." My tears are flowing faster. "I'm so glad we can work this out now. I love you."

He nods into my neck. "I love you too." He whispers.

I lift my head, and kiss him softly. He returns the kiss, just as soft. Just as gentle as ever. It's just like it used to be. Stolen kisses on patrol. Leaning out of my bedroom window. It's like the past three years didn't happen. I deepen the kiss and moan again into his mouth.

This is what I needed. 

Sure, in the morning, things will be complicated. But we will work through them. 

But for right now, this is enough.

*****

  
Angel's POV

I don't really know what I'm doing here. I left the hotel a while ago, not sure where I was going or what I would do when I got there. All I knew was that I was hurting. I was tired of pining after Cordelia and getting nothing in return. I couldn't be around her anymore, not without going crazy.

So here I am, in front of Buffy's house. I ring the doorbell, and only then do I realize it's past midnight. She would be asleep. I'm about to turn and leave, but think better of it. Instead, I ring the bell again, and a few moments later, she is standing in front of me.   
  
I guess I was wrong. The dark circles under her eyes tell me she wasn't asleep, and maybe it had been a while since she was. 

"Hi." she says softly.   
  
"Hi." I reply. I look around, suddenly embarrassed that I dragged myself all the way over here, just to pull her into my personal problems. "Can I come in?" I'm already here, I may as well make the most of it. She moves out of the way, and I make my way inside. I can hear heartbeats. Lots of them. I don't bother to ask about the numerous guests she has at the moment. 

"Business or social?" She asks as she shuts the door. 

"A little of both." I reply. Then, I wonder if I should just shut up now and go home. But, my stupid mouth keeps moving. "I need to escape business for a while. Escape L.A." I want to kick myself. Why am I still talking? I mentally chide myself, and tell myself to keep my damn mouth shut.

"Oh?" Buffy replies. She wants to add more but doesn't. She sits down on the couch, and I sit next to her. "Rough client?" She asks.   
  
I bite back a grimace. Rough everything. I don't bother to explain everything. I would end up talking all night. I shake my head 'no' and relax against the back of the couch. I let out a sigh, and I can see that confuses her. I don't really remember when I started that unnecessary habit--I guess I was just used to being exasperated when Cordy was around. "Just... a little of everything, you know?" I place my hand on her knee--I'm not quite sure why--and she places her hand on top of my hand. Her hands are soft and warm. I forgot how it felt to be touched by her. 

"I'm glad you came." She says, "I really am. But, why aren't you in L.A.? Don't you have people up there to talk to?"

I try to hide my scowl. Yeah, that would be classic. 'Cordy, can we talk? Yeah, well, I love you. But I just feel like you don't love me...'. I look back at Buffy. "No." I say, "Not about this. There's just so much. And Cordelia..." I stop myself. I'm not bringing her to Sunnydale with me. No. I don't need to drag Buffy into my horrible love life, or lack there of.

She misinterprets my hesitation. "So three years with Queen C has gotten to you?" She asks. I don't know if she's asking snottily, or if she really is just concerned, but I don't bother to dissect it. I feel a little bad. I am pinning this all on Cordelia. It's not all her. I guess I have been... unreachable lately. But with good reason, I feel. If someone were to experience the way my love usually turns out--much like a train wreck--they would be hesitant to get close too. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts, and answer Buffy. "No. I didn't mean it like that. She's fine. She's changed. A lot. It's just... there are things now. A lot of... I don't know. It's hard to explain."  


She wisely changes the subject, and I don't know if I feel relived, or guilty for blocking her out. Maybe I feel a little stupid for being so... I don't know... readable? 

"Well," she says, "You're welcome to stay as long as you want."

I force a smile. I hope she doesn't notice. But, suddenly, I realize I don't care if she does. I can feel any ounce of energy I had left just drain out of me. Is this what it feels like to give up? I realize I just don't care anymore. I just want to stop feeling hurt. 

She cocks her head at me, and looks questioningly into my eyes. "Angel?" She asks, "Are you ok?"

I nod slowly, then lean towards her. She's surprised when my lips meet hers, but she doesn't refuse. I can feel her relax into it, and I deepen the kiss more. Trying to feel something. Anything.   
  
I pull her shirt off of her, and briefly wonder if maybe I should stop; If I should apologize for using her, and just head home. But I can't. I just need some comfort. I want to forget everything. All of the pain and worries and loneliness that seems to be haunting me lately. 

We end up laying on the couch, and I know the curse isn't a problem. This isn't going to end up perfect happiness--it's just a temporary escape. And once I'm done, we'll fall asleep and when she wakes up, I won't be here. I feel guilty--extremely guilty--but my pain outweighs the guilt and I hope that when this is over, she can forgive me, but I won't blame her if she doesn't. 

I enter her, and it takes all my will power to not ravage her and take out my frustrations on her tiny body. She moans and whispers my name, and I growl to myself, trying desperately to feel anything. She digs her nails into my back, and I feel her breathing quicken and her heart race, and I blink back tears, knowing that this girl under me isn't the girl I want it to be. I move inside her quicker and harder, going as hard as I can without hurting her. Hoping that maybe the friction will ease my pain. She wraps her legs around my waist and pulls me deeper into her. 

She arches her back slightly, and whispers my name. "Angel."  


I close my eyes and try to imagine Cordelia under me; Cordelia being the one to whisper my name in pleasure in the dark of night. She pulls me closer to her, and then her head falls back as she moans loudly. I don't even bother to wonder if the guests upstairs hear her. She moves her hips in time to mine, and I can feel her getting weaker, slower. She will be done soon, but I know I won't be for a while. Not until all of my frustrations and anger has stopped bouncing around in my brain. She lets out one last moan, and she shudders under me. 

She's exhausted, but I'm nowhere near it. I hold her tiny body tighter and move harder into her. She shudders again, harder this time, and lets out soft moans with every thrust. I can only hope that I'm not hurting her, but by now I can't stop. 

I hold her body to me, and continue to take advantage of the warmth and comfort she offered me. Wishing I never came here. Wishing it were Cordelia. 

Finally, I come, and I growl loudly into her neck. I don't bother to pull myself out of her. I just hug her body tighter to me, and listen to her heart return to normal. She strokes my hair softly, and whispers to me. But I don't hear her. Instead, the tears finally fall over my eyes as she tells me she loves me. I close my eyes and pretend it's Cordy.

"I love you, too." I whisper, imagining brown hair instead of blonde. Dark hazel eyes instead of blue. Wishing I were in my room at the Hyperion, not on the couch at Revello drive.   
  
She lifts her head an kisses me again. I kiss her back, my eyes still closed, my imagination in overdrive.

No, she isn't Cordelia. 

But for now, she's enough. 


	2. Not Enough

****

Angel's POV

The sun will be up in about three hours. The clock on the dashboard reads 4:17. I try not to think of my restricted time as I drive down the highway as fast as my Plymouth will go.

I try not to think about what I just did. Who I just did it to. What Cordelia would say or do when she found out. I try to push it to the back of my mind, because I know that if I think too much about it, I'll be sick.

At 4:23, I'm bending over on the side of the road, retching. But considering I haven't eaten anything in about 2 days, the most I can do is dry-heave. After a few moments of painful gagging, I close my eyes, and force myself to stop. It takes a good 10 minutes before I'm completely calmed down. I lean against the car, and try to think. I know I should go back. Go talk to her. I make some stupid excuse about how I would run out of darkness if I went back now, but I know damn well that I have enough time to do it. That if I were to utilize my time, I could do it no problem. I'm just afraid. Ashamed. I slowly make my way back to the car and pull myself into the drivers seat. I start the car, and pull back onto the road.

***

At about 9:00 pm, I drag myself down the stairs and into the Hyperion lobby. I had gotten home at 6:00 am, and had been sleeping all day. I gave the rest of the crew the day off, but when I reach the bottom of the stairs, I see Cordelia is sitting at the front desk, humming some song--it sounds like country to me, but she refuses to admit she listens to it.

"Cordelia." I mutter as I pass her and make my way into the kitchen.

"Hello, Angel." She says as she stands up and walks after me.

"What are you doing here? I gave you guys the day off."

"Oh, I know. But there's just nothing to do back at my place... I was thinking maybe we could have movie night?"

I rub my eyes and shake my head. "Not tonight, Cordy. I just... I don't feel like visitors." Suddenly, paranoia takes over my mind. What if Cordy's demon-powers include mind reading? Or super smelling? Would she be able to see my memories of last night? Or smell Buffy on me? I mentally tell myself to stop being so stupid, but still, I push Buffy to the back of my mind and promise to shower again once I get upstairs.

Cordelia looks at me, hurt. "Oh." She says. "Ok, fine." She walks to the sink and leans against the counter.

"Cordy."

"No, I'm fine. I'll just go home and visit with Dennis."

"Sorry." I mutter as I shove a pack of blood into the microwave. "I just--"

"I said I'm fine, Angel." She forces a smile at me and then reaches behind her and grabs a mug. She says nothing as she hands it to me.

I take it from her without meeting her eyes.

"I'll just clean up a little, and I'll be gone in a few." I open my mouth again, but she interrupts me. "Don't apologize." She says falsely sugar-coated as she pushes past me and walks into the lobby. As her footsteps fall softly in the next room, I can hear her resume her song, a little slowly than before. I don't even bother to feel guilty as I grab my mug out of the micro. I have enough to be guilty for.

***

As I step out of the shower, I feel a little better. A little. Not much, though.

But believe me, my mood is broken even more as I step out of the bathroom, and into my room to get dressed.

Cordy is sitting on my bed, and she doesn't look happy.

"Look, I said--" I start.

"I know what you said." She says as she stands up and makes her way to my door. "I just came up here to let you know, Buffy is waiting downstairs. She showed up a few minutes ago."

***

I run my fingers through my wet hair and try to think of what to say as I make my way downstairs.

In the lobby, I can see Cordelia behind the desk, getting her belongings together. She's going awfully slow, and I know she's taking her time so that she can watch what will unfold with Buffy's visit.

Buffy.

She's standing in the middle of the lobby, looking out of place. She tries to look angry, but I can see right through it and can tell she's hurt. Disappointed. Upset. The list goes on. And I'm the one who put all of that there.

When she sees me, she smiles ruefully. "Well." She says, "Nice to see you again, Angel."

"Hi, Buffy." I say softly, then turn to the woman behind the desk. "Cordy, I thought you were going home?"

Buffy's eyes flick over to Cordelia, then look back at me, burning holes into my skin. "So, I wake up, and I have this ridiculous fantasy that maybe you're off getting something to eat. You know, breakfast in bed--well, couch--kinda thing, you know? But, a few hours later, the sun comes up and you're not back. I start to worry."

I interrupt her here. "Why don't we go upstairs and talk?" I ask, nearly close to pleading.

But Buffy isn't having any of it. "I'm comfortable here, thanks."

"Cordy, go home." I demand. Cordelia is past pretending to go home; She's stopped and is watching me and Buffy with curiosity written over her face.

"Don't want her to hear, huh, Angel? Don't want to air your dirty laundry?"

Cordelia still hasn't made an attempt at the door, and I feel ready to snap. I swing my head to look at her. "Are you leaving, or not?!" I yell at her. She jumps slightly in surprise, and takes a few steps back. But soon, the scared girl is hidden again, and instead, tough-girl Cordy has taken her place.

Buffy looks between Cordy and me once more before delivering the final blow, and rightfully so. "I started to worry that maybe Angelus had gotten out." Suddenly, her anger disappears, and she looks tremendously sad. "But it wasn't perfect happiness, was it?" She smiles ruefully once more, and swallows her tears. "No. Somewhere along the line, sleeping with me stopped making you happy." Her face betrays her, and tears start falling. She covers her face with her hands, and I tear my eyes away from her to look at Cordelia.

I wish I could say Cordy looked mad, or sad or hell, I'd even take murderous.

But no, instead, she stares blankly at me, before she starts laughing hysterically.

***

****

Buffy's POV

Angel is so surprised that I actually showed up here. Well, imagine my surprise when I wake to find he wasn't there. That I had been abandoned. Again. And after all of that crap he told me. How he was so suffering, and he loved me and--I have to stop now. I can feel tears begin to well up as he stares at me from across the lobby. But I won't let him see me cry. Oh no, he already got through my defenses when he showed up at my front porch for a quick screw and a 'screw you.'

"Well." I say, trying hard to cover up my tears with a smile, "Nice to see you again, Angel."

Angel looks at me with his big puppy dog eyes--and I feel the sudden need to gauge them with something. "Hi, Buffy." He says, then looks to Cordelia. "Cordy," He says, "I thought you were going home?"

I look over to the woman packing things into her purse, and it hits me. As of right now, he's more worried about hiding it from Cordelia than he is about explaining anything to me. And I just bristle at the thought. "So, I wake up, and I have this ridiculous fantasy that maybe you're off getting something to eat. You know, breakfast in bed--well, couch--kinda thing, you know? But, a few hours later, the sun comes up and you're not back. I start to worry."

He interrupts me. "Why don't we go upstairs and talk?" He's close to begging, and I can tell. And all I want to do is run to him and beat him. The stupid asshole just wrecked me and all he worries about is making sure he maintains his 'good guy' face in front of his co-workers.

There is no way I'm letting him have his way with me, again. "I'm comfortable here, thanks."

He turns to Cordelia. "Cordy, go home." He demands.

Now, I snap. "Don't want her to hear, huh, Angel? Don't want to air your dirty laundry?" I'm close to screaming, and I don't know why I'm not.

He looks at me, then back to Cordy, and apparently, he's snapped, too. Because then he yells at her, "Are you leaving, or not?!" Cordelia jumps and takes a few steps back, and I try not to scoff. I can't believe him. I'm the one he should be talking to, begging for forgiveness. Damn it, Angel! Look at ME. Please, I'm begging you, just pay attention to me. Let me know I'm still here! That I still exist! That I'm more than just a 'Slayer' and that I'm a person! Please, Angel, please, just look at me, and just let me know... Just show me that you feel remorse or anything... but no, Angel's still looking at Cordy, and I'm dying to tear his attention away from her, and back to me. "I started to worry that maybe Angelus had gotten out." I say. And once the words leave my mouth, I realize I'm not as angry as I am hurt. My anger falls away to my insecurities and sadness as I realize what I knew when I first realized he was gone. "But it wasn't perfect happiness, was it?" I say. I blink back tears and try to continue, but I can't.

When? When did this happen? When did I become so undesirable? When did my life start to tumble downwards and why won't it stop?

The entire ride up here, I tried to think of excuses. Maybe he had an emergency, or maybe he was afraid of what the Scoobies might say or ANYTHING, anything other than it wasn't real. Anything that meant I didn't have to admit that last night wasn't special.

So I could keep pretending he ran to me when things got tough. That he still thought of me. Tears start to fall as I think to myself. And finally, I admit the truth. "No. Somewhere along the line, sleeping with me stopped making you happy."

***

****

Cordy's POV

At first, I don't really know what to say.

The thought of Angel running to Sunnydale makes me want to scoff.

But then... I see the shame written on Angel's face and it hits me. He ran to Sunnydale. I don't really know what I'm doing, but before I can stop myself, I'm laughing. Hysterically.

I'm laughing so hard, I start to cry... then, I stop laughing, but continue crying as the full weight of Buffy's words hits me. Sleeping with me stopped making you happy.

Paranoia starts to haunt me. Something must have been wrong. And if it was, why didn't he turn to me? Am I such a bad person that he doesn't feel he can talk to me? Did I do something to make him think he had to hide things from me? Am I the one who upset him enough to send him to Sunnydale? He's still gaping at me, looking hurt, but I don't even care. I want to hit him. Hurt him. Jesus, right now all I'm wishing for is a nice big patch of sunlight and I would have all I needed! How dare he even try to act hurt? How dare he--

My thoughts are cut off as my entire chest starts to ache. Is this what it feels like when your heart breaks?

No. This is what it feels like when you stop breathing.

I try to take a deep breath, and calm down, but the idea of calming down right now just doesn't make sense. Angel takes a few steps closer to me. "Cordelia." He says, "I-"

I look at him contemptuously and take more than a few steps away from him, and I guess he realizes I don't even want to look at him right now, because he stops walking towards me and looks towards the floor.

"I know you don't want to hear this." He says softly, "And I know it's probably not going to make you stop hurting, either, but... I... I'm sorry."

I just stare him down. He's sorry? He just betrayed me, and all he can say is sorry. Sorry is something you say when you break something, or interrupt someone when they're talking or do anything other than THIS! My mouth opens and shuts quite a few times, and I know I must resemble a fish. He's rendered me completely speechless, and that's quite a feat.

I mean, I know he didn't truly betray me, because we weren't really together. I get that. And I guess part of me knew that he always belonged to Buffy, but... I really thought we were getting somewhere. Part of me knows I shouldn't really be mad--we weren't together, I never told him how I felt. Technically, his little late night rendezvous is completely legit.

I guess I'm more hurt than mad. I mean, didn't he notice?

The movie nights and silly banter and my clothes and belongings somehow finding their way into his room... didn't he notice? Couldn't he see my inability to be away from him!?

No. He didn't see. He was too caught up in Buffy. He was just too damn... I force myself to calm down. When did I become so maudlin about things?

For the first time since Buffy arrived, he looks me in the eyes and begins walking towards me. He stops about a foot from me. "Cordy..." He says.

That's it. I completely snap. "Don't call me that!" I yell, finding my voice. He tries to take a step closer to me, but I shove him away. "Don't TOUCH me!" I open my mouth again to say more, but I can't think of anything to say.

So, I punch him.

***

****

Buffy's POV

I stare in shock as I watch Cordelia swing back, and slug Angel across the face. And, oh no, not a little slap like one might expect from Queen C. A strong right hook. I notice her form is a lot like Angels. He must have been training her. Talk about irony kicking his ass.

They both stare each other down for a minute before Cordelia grabs her purse and storms out the door. Angel doesn't even try to stop her.

Finally, I find my voice. "You're 0 for 2." I say, shakily.

He looks at me with... I don't know? What is that? Worry? Shame? Hurt? It seems like every bad feeling is written on his face. "Guess I am." I take a few tentative steps towards him. I know I should be mad, angry, livid. I should be calling him every name in the book. But I just feel so drained of energy.

"What's going on, Angel?" I ask.

He sighs--there's that habit again. "I'm-"

"Really sorry for last night." I finish for him. "Yeah, you're right. You are sorry." My eyes start to tear and instinctively, my hands reach up to wipe my eyes. "How... Jesus Christ, Angel, how could you?!" I run my fingers through my hair. "I was so stupid! Thinking that maybe, just maybe, you still loved me or thought of me or--" I stop. My voice is cracking and my face is twisting in pain as I try to hold back tears. "Look, I didn't come here to talk or work through our problems. I just came here to let you know what I thought. Maybe someday I'll be able to look at you without hating you, but right now, I can't. I know you're sorry, Angel. But right now, that's just not enough."

***

****

Angel's POV

It's been about a week since Buffy came.

Cordelia hasn't been to work since. When she gets a vision, she calls Wes. I learned quickly to not answer the phone--if she heard my voice, she'd hang up without letting us know what she saw.

The rest of them don't know what's going on. They think me and Cordy had a spat and she's just being petty.

But I don't correct them, and I guess that makes me the petty one. But hey, I've already used and betrayed the only women who ever meant anything to me--the word 'petty' means nothing compared to what they think of me.

I roll over in my bed and lay face down in my pillow. After a few minutes, I realize that if I were human, I would have suffocated by now. And then I realize I wish I were human, so I could be dead already. Behind me, my bedroom door opens.

"Angel?"

"Yeah, Fred?" I say, muffled.

"Just came up to give you your blood." I hear her place a mug down on the night table. "And to let you know we're all leaving. It's midnight, and still no activity. If something comes up, we'll get you?" I don't answer. "Alright. I'm going to stay with Charles tonight. See you in the morning."

"Uh huh." I mutter.

"Angel?"

"Yeah?" My voice is still muffled by my pillow, and I can hear that she's annoyed because I won't look at her.

"Whatever is going on with you and Cordy... you two should really work it out." Yeah, that's a laugh. 'Sorry I boned Buffy, Cordelia. It was another beige period, what can I say?' I laugh to myself and Fred sighs, exasperated. "It's hard on the rest of us..."

"It's hard on YOU?"

She continues, as if I didn't interrupt her. "What with her not coming to work and you staying in your room all day and..." She trails off. I stopped listening to her a while ago and she knows it. "I'm going now."

"Alright."

I don't hear her footsteps as she walks away, but I hear the door click shut behind her.

A few minutes later, I hear the door open again. I lift my head up off the pillow to see what she wants, and I notice my bedside clock reads that it's long past midnight. Almost 3:00 am. Hours since Fred has been here.

I roll over and face my door to see who is visiting me so late, and I'm shocked to see Cordelia standing in my room.

She still looks hurt, and I don't blame her.

But as she makes her way across the room and to my bed, something tells me she isn't here to share her feelings.


	3. Breaking the Ritual

Title: Breaking the Ritual

Author: AngelsChilde

Pairings: B/A and C/A

Rating: R 

Summary: The Conclusion following Angel's trip to Sunnydale

It's become a ritual by now. 

The first night, I had been laying in bed, thinking... ok, brooding, about... well, everything. 

And, then, in walks Cordelia. In her hand, she was holding roses. No, not in the romantic, "I forgive you" kind of way. They were roses I had sent to her. Actually, I had sent roses to her everyday since the day she found out about Buffy. She held all 84 roses in her hand, (a dozen a day for a week.) and was standing in front of my bed. She didn't blink as she tossed them to me... maybe that's a bad choice of words. _Threw_ them at me may fit better. 

  
I didn't take my eyes off hers, even as some of the flowers hit me in the face.

Now, what came next confused the hell out of me. 

Slowly, Cordelia crawled onto the bed until she was right over me. 

"Cordelia, what are you doing?" I whispered. Though, why I whispered, I have no idea. She didn't answer me as she straddled my hips, and began undressing. "Cor-"

She looked at me, and her eyes flashed angrily. "You think you're the only one who needs comfort sex sometimes?"

"Cordelia, not like-"

"Shut up, Angel." She began to unbutton my shirt, but I rolled over and pinned her to the bed, holding her wrists high above her head. 

"Stop it, Cordelia."

"Not in the mood? Tell you what, just imagine I'm Buffy, and then we'll both be happy." I clenched onto her wrists tighter, but didn't say anything. We glared at each other for at least a full minute before she finally spoke, "Are you going to do this, or should I go to Wes's instead?" I growled at her, but her facial expression didn't change. 

We stared each other down for another moment before I brought my lips to hers. 

I'm not quite sure when clothing was actually removed, but sure enough, moments later, we were sprawled on my bed, with the unwanted garments on the floor. 

I knew there was no way to be afraid of Angelus now; This wasn't sweet, or loving. It was raw, and needy, and desperate. And how was I supposed to be happy knowing that I was the reason it was like this? 

I entered her, and she moaned as she arched her back to accommodate me. I started moving within her, and it took a few moments, but eventually we found a rhythm and our hips moved together. 

There's no holding or touching; She didn't caress my face like I always imagined she would, or wrap her legs around me or even really acknowledge my presence. Cordelia was clutching the pillow above her head, moaning softly every time I moved in her. 

Her breathing became quicker and more labored, and I knew she would climax soon. She moved her hips faster, and more desperately, and I followed her lead. 

A second later, she comes, just a second before I did. 

It was nothing like I fantasized. No after-sex snuggling or whispers. 

No. 

Instead, she waited for just a minute or two while she caught her breath, then said, "Get up." 

Reluctantly, I get up and she swings her legs over the side of the bed and sits up. The smell of sex is strong in the room, and I wonder briefly if I would be able to find new sheets before the rest of the crew came back in the morning. 

I'm pulled from my thoughts as I feel the bed shift and she stands up. She crosses the room to where I had thrown her panties earlier, and without a word, she slips them on, then continues the hunt for the rest of her clothes.

About five minutes later, she's completely dressed, and I'm still laying naked on my bed, in shock of what just happened, and how she was acting so nonchalant about it. 

She doesn't even acknowledge me as she walked to my bedroom door, reached down and grabbed her purse, and is out the door, closing it softly on her way out. I didn't notice that she had left her purse so close to the door... I guess she did it purposely, to make a quick exit.

Anyways, that was two months ago. And ever since then, it's ritual. At midnight, Cordelia comes up to the room, gives me back the roses I sent her that day, and then we fuck. No, not make love or even have sex, just plain fucking. We don't talk and we don't touch, other than the necessary. 

And after she's done--and I say 'she' because on more than one occasion, she didn't even let me finish before she got up and left--she'll get up, get dressed, grab her purse and take off. 

Then, I'll get up, pick up the roses, and put them in the garbage, and then clean up so that I can go out and patrol the streets. 

Cordelia doesn't come to work anymore--she's still calling when she has a vision. Nobody else knows what's going on. 

  
Even Fred, who is usually home when Cordelia stops by, has no idea. 

Normally, I would say it adds to the mystery of the relationship. It makes the sex more exciting. But, it doesn't. Whether they know or not, it would still be Cordy coming over nightly to vent her feelings and return my flowers.

My memories are disrupted by my bedroom door opening. I look at my bedside clock. 12:13 am. She's later than usual.   
  
I look up and see her crossing the room, and for the first time in weeks, I speak to her. "You forgot your flowers."

She looks at me for only a moment before she answers. "No. I didn't."

We don't bother to talk anymore as she pulls her shirt over her head, then crawls onto the bed.

*****

It's been about a week since Cordelia stopped bringing the roses. I once asked her what she did with them if she wasn't throwing them at me, but she told me it didn't matter. I didn't try the small talk again that night. 

Now, she is laying in my bed. She's still breathing hard and I can smell arousal coming off of her in waves.   
  
I'm surprised when she doesn't jump up and get dressed right away. Instead, she lay for a few minutes. We still weren't talking or touching, but... it felt different this time. 

It doesn't last. About ten minutes later, she's up and walking out the door. 

*****

I'm staring at my bedside clock. It's past one in the morning, and Cordelia is still laying in my bed. She doesn't talk or move, just lays there, facing the wall. I wonder what the wall would look like with a window.

She'd like that.

Finally, Cordelia gets up and starts to get dressed. As she makes her way to the door, I call out to her. "Cordelia?" She stops and acknowledges me, but doesn't answer. I don't really know if I want to ask what I'm going to ask--I'm afraid of the answer. I ask anyway. "Are we going to be ok?"

She doesn't turn around to look at me as she opens the door and walks out.

*****

It's been another week since I asked--ever since I made such a stupid mistake, she stopped hanging around, and started taking off before she even had the chance to cool down. I'm pissed at myself for opening my mouth. 

But tonight, as she heads out the door, she stops and looks at me. "Angel?" She says so softly, even I have to strain to hear her, "We will be."

*****

It's been about 2 weeks since I got my answer. Ever since that night, she started hanging around again. 

Tonight, she didn't leave until 4:00 am. It's the longest we've been in a room together. We lay there, awake for about an hour. Then, I could hear her breathing getting even and softer. And I had the best time just laying there, listening to her. She woke up at 3:30. Lay around for about 20 minutes before getting up to go. 

And when she did leave, an amazing thing happened. 

She said goodbye.

Nothing elaborate--just a simple "goodbye" as she shut the door behind her. 

*****

It's been a little over 3 months since I went to Sunnydale. 

And in those three months, I've seen Cordelia every night, but every night there is hardly any words, and minimal touching. 

But tonight, she walks in the door with a single rose. Suddenly, I'm afraid. She hasn't brought the roses in weeks, why would she start again? 

But to my surprise, she just lay it down on my bedside table, and doesn't even offer me an explanation. 

Cordelia groans softly as she climbs into the bed, and I realize she's groaning because she's tired. And suddenly, I feel very tired too.   
  
"Hold me." She whispers softly and crawls into my arms.   


And I'm so happy to have her there. But I know we can't keep ignoring it. "Cordelia, we have to talk. You know that. We have to have closure with Sunny-"

"No." She says, just as soft as before, but still firm. "Not tonight. Tonight, just hold me. For tonight, that's enough."

I don't argue as I hug her tighter to me, and I can hear her drift off to sleep. 

I smile as I look at the clock. 10:37. An hour and a half early. 

Slowly but surely, we broke the ritual.


End file.
